


Faded Paths

by VisceralComa



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, F/M, Modern Character in Thedas, One Shot Collection, Portal Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 20:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/VisceralComa
Summary: One shot stories of an abandoned Choose Your Own Romance styled MCIT fic.Read knowing these will never come to fruition.





	1. Holly/Meredith Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the scenes I wrote for the Meredith path.

“It’s been five years since you arrived.” It wasn’t a question, only a statement. One that Meredith appeared in awe to believe. 

“Has it been that long?” Holly thought about it. Five years since she was found in the box. And in those five years she’s made a life for herself here. In this strange city in a strange world, where myth and magic are real. Both of which are proverbially out of sight for the mundane and layman. You know what they say about things being out of sight? They are out of mind. 

She supposed that’s why she’s made herself known. A constant appearance at the Gallows, in the Keep, in the barracks, at the Chantry and anywhere else. Just in the slim hope there may be news, some breakthrough into what happened and how she got here. 

Time was a fickle mistress, for the more time she spent in those places, the more acquaintances she made, which led to relationships with people she considered family. Until it transformed her desires for home to anxiety about leaving. That perhaps this day would be the day there was a breakthrough, potentially leading to a way back home. She prayed to the aether that day would never come. 

“I remember the first day I really met you.” Meredith tapped her gauntleted fingers against her desk. 

“Really met me?” Holly lifted an eyebrow. 

“When you were yourself. Those first few days, you were…understandably shocked.” Meredith mused. 

She remembered those days. One could never forget the feel of coagulated blood, fat, and viscera over one’s skin. Let alone the solitude of a chest and assorted body parts. 

Meredith stood abruptly. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to remind you of such horrors.” 

Holly shivered, sick to her stomach. “It’s alright…” She trailed off. Her bottom lip quivered. The sound of metal sawing into bone rushed back to her. Her breath hitched and eyes squeezed shut. 

With a deeply set frown, Meredith rose and rummaged through her chest. She grabbed a bundle and draped a cotton blanket over Holly’s shoulders. She knelt beside her, unperturbed by her heavy armor. “Calm.”

Holly nodded but found she couldn’t. 

“Lady Holly.” Meredith muttered. “Listen to me. Breathe with me on my count. Can you do this with me?” She waited for Holly’s affirmation. “Good. Inhale for... one, two, three, four...and hold your breath, one two three four five six- Slowly now, exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Now Inhale.” Meredith counted it off for a few rounds, four seconds of inhaling, then seven seconds holding, and eight seconds to exhale. She did it until the color returned to Holly’s skin and she wasn’t shivering anymore. 

“Thank you.” Holly muttered, staring into Meredith’s unending cerulean gaze. 

Meredith let out a low huff. “It is I who should be thanking you.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your cookies.” Meredith stood, grabbing a cookie from the cloth bundle Holly had delivered, along with several petitions from the Viscount. It was bribery, but one that was oh so sweet. “I look forward to them every week.” 

“I know limiting your lyrium intake can have detrimental effects to your hunger.” Holly shrugged. “I’m just ensuring Kirkwall’s Knight Commander is in tip top shape.” 

“True.” Meredith nodded. “But you didn’t have to make my favorite.” Her lips quirked as she picked a cocoa powder covered rum cookie off the pile and took a bite. 

“Well I-Uh…” Holly floundered. “Um-”

“Mhmm.” Meredith hummed and smirked, triumphant at Holly’s speechlessness. 

Holly sighed with a shake of her head. “Yes, I made your favorite.” 

“Have you tried them?” Meredith asked plucking one up and turning

“Of course I did. I taste them to ensure the flavor is correct.” 

“But have you enjoyed one outside of ensuring you baked them correctly?” Meredith held one cookie out.

“No.” 

“Here.” 

“They’re for you though.” 

“Humor me. You looked ready to lose your lunch a moment ago.” Meredith held the cookie in front of Holly’s mouth. 

Holly could have grabbed it but it felt like Meredith was feeding her, so she took one bite. Her lips pressed on the cookie and holding one hand under her chin to catch any of the wayward powder. 

Meredith’s gaze was intense as she watched and stuffed the remaining cookie in her own mouth. Holly was slow to chew, taking her time to digest the texture and mixture of flavors as they came up. Yes she had taste tested for flavor, but the experience was the texture and allowing the sugars to melt and mix. To sink on your tongue as the spice rum added a twist to the chewy center. She barely contained her moan, intending on licking clean the cocoa powder when two lips pressed against hers. 

Gauntleted fingers tipped her chin up, allowing Meredith to deepen the kiss with a flick of her tongue. 

Holly stopped breathing, her heart fluttered and pounded as Meredith tipped her head back. Metal fingers slipped over her scalp to cradle her and push. Teeth nipped her bottom lip lightly but it pursued no further and no more immodestly than it had. 

When Meredith pulled back, her gaze was heated yet regretful as she stood. “My apologies.” 

“Wha…” Holly cleared her throat. “Whatever for?”

“You are at times entirely too sweet to resist.” Meredith admitted. “It was incredibly forward of me, but…” Meredith looked Holly over. A flash of her hungry desire was all Holly needed to imagine the thoughts behind her normally steely gaze. “I do have a sweet tooth.”

Cheeks burning, Holly stood sharply. “Oh..I...I must go. The Viscount needs these forms, and I do have dinner with Bran. if you’ll excuse me. Thank you. D-d-do-enjoy-the-cookies.” Holly grabbed her forms and excited the office quickly. Blood rushing in her ears, she didn’t stop to look behind her or at the calls of the Templars asking what was wrong. She beelined directly to the ferry that would take her back to the docks. 

It was only when she was seated did she have a moment to think. Her hand trailed over her still wet lips, recalling the feel of the Knight Commander’s kiss. 

“Maker…” She sighed and pressed her forehead against her palms. “What am I going to do?”


	2. Holly/Arishok Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the later scenes I wrote for the Arishok path.

Holly crossed the compound toward the Arishok’s throne. He was there, sat as usual but speaking with Kithshok and Ashaad. About what, Holly didn’t know. But Kithshok was the person Holly mainly spoke with about trade of goods and services. Ashaad had requested maps of the local area to compare to his own survey. 

They were going over the comparison of maps now, if she’d have guess. So she waited by the stairs, not intending on being rude, and waiting for the Arishok’s permission to rise or speak. 

Yet even when Kithsok and Ashaad left, he said nothing. He faced her, could see her but said nothing. 

Holly fidgeted, wondering if perhaps she had offended him. Every time she’d ever come here she would wait for his permission to climb the stairs, and everytime he gave it. Yet today, he stared. His gaze narrowing the more time passed. 

She wasn’t wearing anything different, nor had she brought anything special. Was today different? Given the Arishok also wore something different, perhaps it was? He wasn’t wearing his usual plate armor, but the bottom half of his normal armor and his chest was intricately painted. The smooth red paint highlighted the thick expanse of his muscles now fully on display. 

Holly turned up to speak but was speechless when the Arishok rose. 

“Will you continue to stand there, gawking as a toad does, Secretary Holly?” The Arishok boomed, impatient. “Or will you approach?” 

“I-no.” Holly fumbled and climbed the stairs slowly while watching the Arishok. “I usually wait for your permission before approaching.” 

“My permission has been granted to you enough.” The Arishok frowned. 

“Are you saying I can just come right to you?” Holly 

“You have demonstrated you are aware when you should approach. I trust you do not prove me wrong in the future.” 

“Of course.” Holly stuttered and looked down. Arishok placed one finger beneath her chin to raise her head and gaze enough to meet his. There was something different about him, Holly couldn’t place it. And it wasn’t just his lack of armor. 

“I have updates on your people’s contributions and a few other items.” She pulled out the scroll. “It isn’t much this time, so I won’t take up your time.” 

The Arishok didn’t reply but walked away from the throne, pausing just past the doorway to look back at her expectantly. 

Holly took it as a cue to follow him. With one cursory glance to the Karasten who normally remained at his side yet did not follow the Arishok, she stepped past and walked beside Arishok through the compound. 

There weren’t many things to update the Arishok on. Contributions of construction and repairs were slow, but much needed with Darktown’s crumbling support structures. It would take time to reinforce it, of which the Stens under the Arishok were exceedingly helpful with. There was also an uptick in the local farms. Kithshok had offered some insight on improvements to the way in which the land is tilled. They were now seeing the benefits of it after one year. This year’s harvest was more bountiful than last so there would be a surplus. Holly eyed her list, going down them slowly. The last item made her nervous. 

Holly fidgeted, pausing as she came to it. The Arishok had listened as they walked and now paused as well. 

“If you are finished, I request your presence further.” The Arishok didn’t wait and kept walking. 

The compound itself had improved greatly. The walls were cleaned and decorated in banners and designs that fit the Qunari inhabiting the space. There were rooms for storage and large rooms filled with pillows and lounging Qunari. Some even sleeping in groups. 

Holly had wondered how the Qunari slept with their horns like that. Turns out, they slept on their stomachs or sides. Plus they slept in group piles. 

They passed another such room, and Holly paused seeing female bodied qunari here. She knew they were present, but the Arishok had called them Aqun-athlok. The closest translation being, women living as warriors - or well men. But she wasn’t sure that was it specifically, but didn’t question it. 

The Arishok finally paused in front of a large placard with qunlat words etched into the metal. 

“What does it say?” Holly asked. 

The Arishok took a deep breath and translated for her. “Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering.”

“Loss of the self?”

“There are many ways in which one can lose their self. Your people have invented many more in their madness.” The Arishok rumbled.

Holly furrowed her brow. What ways did they invent?

“It is not enough for them to choose to suffer, but they invent rules to inflict their own suffering on others.” The Arishok clarified. A scowl came over him as he looked her over. 

Some emotion Holly couldn’t identify came over him. Or perhaps she could, but she pushed it out of her mind. 

“The mastery of oneself should not come at the loss of another’s. Likewise, the loss of yourself should not inflict the same on others. To do so would bring chaos to this world. In this your people are mad.” Arishok gazed hard on her, his chest expanding wide with each deep breath as he contained his - anger? Holly wasn’t sure. He took further breaths until the wild energy, that was stoked in his frustration and surrounded him into calming burning embers. Embers that glittered in his gaze.

Holly gulped, unsure if she should speak. She was alone with the Arishok. If she were anyone else, this would have frightened her. But she knew she was safe here. No harm would come to her. 

“You do not adhere to their invented rules, but suffer nonetheless because of it.”

“How…” Holly bit her tongue. She knew what he meant. 

“Kadan,” Arishok breathed the word softly, his muscles releasing tension Holly hadn't noticed. “I do not wish to see you lose yourself. I do not wish to see you suffer.”

The word was unfamiliar to Holly, but she knew it was a new word, new role to reference to her. The way he used it and stared at her, expecting her attention on him. 

There was a long stretch of silence between them. Comfortable but laced in an emotion Holly didn’t want to even begin to unpack right then, not while her mind swirled with questions. 

She looked away from Arishok’s intense gaze. “What you’ve said makes sense but...I require clarification. What would make me suffer? What do you see is causing me to suffer?”

Arishok took a steadying breath and answered. “Desire.” 

With one word Arishok stoked a heat inside Holly, flushing her cheeks and making her heart clench and beat. She covered her face to hide from the insinuation. Arishok’s low chuckle did little to quell the burn at her ears.

“Not your own. But the desire from those you keep in your company.” He clarified. “All beings have desires of the flesh. With rare exceptions.” Arishok spoke. “It is this desire, centered in our loins that would rule us. Unguided, it would make us into little more than beasts. We would lose the self. The Qun does not deny its existence. as so many in your people’s Chantry do. The Qun does not struggle with it, does not resist it, but neither do we revel in it. We embrace it. But your people, deny it and so push the limits of their restraint. They spend all their efforts struggling and suffering it, until it manifests into misdirected and unnaturally restrained lust.”

Holly gulped, reminded of how quickly things nearly got out of hand with Ewald in the Hanged Man. She also couldn’t help but think of Cyril, lost in his debauchery at the Chateau. Bran and Meredith restrained themselves around her to their limits. Bran until he attempted to sequester Holly away and Meredith until she acted out of turn. Even Flora behaved with a restraint. 

“So what do I do?” Holly stared at him. 

“I cannot say. For it is your choice.” He frowned at her searching him for answers. But she was understanding what he saw and wished to prevent her suffering. “You can struggle under their desire for you, be swallowed into their restraint, and adhere to their rules and so cause yourself ever more turmoil.”

“Or embrace it.” Holly muttered. “Meet them head on, so I control whether I receive their expressions of desire.” 

Arishok grunted his approval. They continued through the compound. 

“What about you?” Holly couldn’t help the question.

The Arishok didn’t say anything but had glanced down at her, one brow raised to prompt her. 

“You...well I assume with the way you look at me sometimes.” 

“I would not force my desire on you, Kadan.” Arishok stated simply. "Nor would I deny it exists."

Holly’s throat clenched and mouth dried at his admission. 

“Forcing my desire on you would do nothing, but cause you to suffer. For you would not return such.” He spoke completely sure of himself. 

“How do you know?” Holly asked. 

Arishok stopped and considered Holly, whose face was flushed red as the vitaar upon his chest. He felt longing for her, to touch her and bring her to completion but it would accomplish nothing if she were not willing and reciprocated it. Better he visit a Tamassaran to express himself. But…

Arishok knelt on one knee besides Holly, staring into her gaze directly with no height difference. She never once jumped in fear of him or his people but found them curious. Not in the way many humans and elves did, for their exoticism, but genuine curiosity. She stared at Karasten with mutual respect and concern as she did with all his other people. But it is with him, her gaze turned softer at times when she explored him with her vision. 

He knew when she did, and he allowed her. It was an appreciation, one he recognized. Her fingers would twitch, drawing absently against her writing board as, dedicating what she saw to memory. And so he did too as he looked upon her. 

“Uh…” Holly panted at his proximity, their faces close enough he could breathe her in. So he did. His nostrils wide as he smelled her scent. The layer of sugared goods from the cookies she spent baking was first, but beneath that was an inherently feminine womanly scent. Sharp and musky, and yet - 

**No. Was he mistaken?** Arishok took a deeper breath, closer to her until he nuzzled against her neck. 

Holly’s heart fluttered when his tongue rolled out to lick across her neck. She moaned, legs trembling. 

Arishok pulled back. The taste of her arousal in her sweat proved he was mistaken. 

He became dark and heavy with want but he did not act, not until Holly pushed her lips to his in a soft, hopeful kiss. He waited, lingering on his resolve until right as she meant to distance herself, he dragged her back. His palm cupped the back of her head, angling so their mouths aligned. He was hard and thickness all over and she softness and gentle. He was reminded of the Tamassarans in Par Vollen meant for expression of desire. Yet this was different. This was his Kadan. A Qunari’s Kadan was a place of respect and desire.

“Kadan.” He rumbled against her lips. He nipped at them lightly so as not to frighten her but he need not worry. Her hands slid across his neck, but he would not allow them further exploration across his shoulders or down his body. 

“Why?” Holly whined.

“I wear vitaar today. It would burn and poison you at the slightest touch.” He explained against her ear. She shivered but nodded. 

They separated with a burning charge between them. Once they calmed they continued through the compound until they were at the entrance. 

“Are there any other updates?” Arishok asked in reference to her long forgotten scroll. 

“Oh. No.” Holly shook her head but then remembered. “Wait, yes. It’s-”


	3. Arishok Path Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the Arishok Path

The storm mages called it the Great Nor’wester Storm. It blew in from the Amaranthine Ocean right into the Waking Sea. It’s ravaging winds and swells lessened the further west it went, but in its wake it left coastal cities and towns with damage to their docks. Among the storm’s many victims was Kirkwall, with half of its docks now under water and the Wounded Coast coated in pollution from the decimated ships.

The docks could be rebuilt easily. But the Coast? The debris could be collected and cleaned up, but it was the damage to the eco-system that worried Holly. The sunken ships had released it’s cargo into the sea of which included a yellow black oil muck that contaminated the water and sand. The smell of pollution and putrefaction wafted from the ocean. It soured the once beautiful landscape view and atmosphere. 

Plus there was Kirkwall’s newest visitors and likely future residents, however temporary. 

Which was the reason for Holly’s presence besides the Viscount and Seneschal. When they’d gotten a report from the Kirkwall Guard there were survivors of a ship crash washed ashore, Holly went right to the Keep’s kitchens to prepare a welcoming basket. Who knows how long they had been without food or if even their supplies on their ship survived. She wanted to ensure whoever they were, was greeted warmly and openly into Kirkwall. 

“Maker, look at this mess.” Marlowe Dumar, the Viscount gestured. He was aggravated, annoyed, and a little worried. There’d been an effort to clean the beach on the Wounded Coast for tourism. All that work and taxpayers’ money, wasted.“How many sovereigns were invested for the Coast Cleanup?” 

“One hundred twenty-six.” Bran recited from memory. 

“Oh it’s not that bad.” Marlowe mused. “We’re perfectly within budget.”

Bran and Holly caught each other’s eye with a tired sigh. 

“That isn’t the issue, ser.” Holly sighed, exchanging a look with Bran. “That amount was invested by nobility in the Assembly and estate owners. A small percentage of which came from…”

“The Dwarven Merchant’s Guild.” Bran finished.

“We’re beholden to the investors, serah. And while we could budget it, they expect a return on investment.” Holly plopped the basket she held down and jotted a few things on her writing board. 

“The potential for revenue on increased tourism is lost without further expending resources for the re-clean up.” Bran gestured at the mess. 

Marlowe pinched the bridge of his nose. “When we return, arrange a meeting with the Guild. The Assembly I can handle but the Guild will require a gentler touch. Holly, perhaps you can speak to that dwarf of yours?” 

“He’s not mine.” Holly corrected. “And I hardly think he wishes to speak to the Guild anymore than you.” Holly paused with a tilt of her head. 

“What is it?” Bran regarded her. He knew that look. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth twitched into a half smile as her gaze flickered. She was remembering something that might help their situation. 

“But perhaps his brother can help.” She covered her twitching mouth with the edge of her writing board as it stretched into a self-satisfied grin. “**If** we approve his request-” 

The Viscount groaned but nodded. “Yes, I’m aware of his expedition request.” Marlowe waved his hand, signaling a moment for him to think. “If it will ensure I won’t have to exchange words with the Guild. Bran, be sure to affix my seal when we return.” 

“Of course, serah.” Bran stated, but never took his gaze off Holly as her lips stretched into a pleased smile and her shoulders shook with amusement. He mouthed, asking her what was funny but she pressed her plump lips into a single line and said nothing. 

Bran narrowed his gaze at her. He’d get her to share later, in private. Perhaps over dinner. 

“In the meantime.” Marlowe turned to the Kirkwall Guard that had accompanied them. They had begun to clean up the debris they could. Collecting it into a pile to set it to a pyre. Anything that was worthy of salvage was set aside into a waiting cart. “Guard Captain, report.”

Guard Captain Ewald turned from two Guards, Wright and Hendyr, who’d been giving him an update. “We’ve a patrol to ensure no bandits surprise us. Clean up has been underway, but we’ve had trouble with the survivors.” Ewald looked at the Qunari on the beach. The Guards and Qunari gave each other a wide berth.

The guards were there to ensure no tainted individuals made it to Kirkwall. Which meant examining the Qunari. 

News of the Blight’s end had recently arrived prior to the storm. Which prompted a huge sigh of relief for Kirkwallers. But that did not mean they were in the clear. 

The moment the Grey Wardens had declared Ferelden was in the midst of a Blight, cities along the coast of Orlais, Nevarra, and the Free Marches opened their doors for those fleeing. But as the Blight spread in Ferelden, so too did the danger.

Between Viscount Dumar, Guard Captain Ewald, Knight Commander Meredith, the Assembly, and Grand Cleric Elthina, they wanted to ensure no one brought the taint to the already overpacked Kirkwall. It was the reason why Meredith had refused so many Ferelden refugees. The chance for any number of them to be tainted was too great. It threatened the health and safety of Kirkwallers and Fereldens combined. But she’d been reasonable and at least had those arriving contained in the Gallows. It made for a very effective quarantine zone with the mages sanitizing everything. Three days were required for their holding to ensure none of them were tainted.  
  
Holly had been privy to that meeting as the Seneschal’s secretary. She’d wanted to argue against it, but it made sense. She didn’t know how communicable the Blight was. She knew it could spread just by being in a Darkspawn’s presence. So what happens when someone who is a carrier of the taint or slow to show taint symptoms? Let one in and it could lead to many others being tainted. Basic plague survival 101. Holly couldn’t blame them or their decision. 

They were reassured in their decision when a mage tending to the incoming refugees came down with the taint. Meredith locked the mages up after that, to keep them and the Templars secure. The Guard was called to take over operation and as it progressed, there was pressure from the Assembly to deny more and more until only those with legitimate business or family in the city were allowed in. The influx was starting to tax the Kirkwall economy. There wasn’t enough jobs to go around, not enough residential properties to house them all. Already a few warehouses had to be utilized as temporary lodging until the second, third, and fourth wave of refugees found work and lodging.  
  
Holly was at least able to have Bran get the Viscount to agree to a Ferelden-to-Kirkwall resident program. Kirkwallers were provided incentive to take in a Ferelden if they had the space. Municipal credit was dispensed, redeemable for a fresh loaf of bread and stew. It was successful in keeping people from starving at least. 

Now they were going to deal with it all over again, but with Qunari instead of Fereldans.

The Qunari were salvaging as much from the wreckage as they could. Often having to tower over a Kirkwall Guard or simply take from the pile the Guard were forming. There were several barrels they simply took or yanked from a Guards grasp. But the Guards simply backed away. 

“Has any attempt been made to speak with them?” Marlowe turned away from them to speak to the group more privately. 

“The first time we approached them, they wielded their weapons and bared their teeth. So thus far, the only interaction is when they take from the pile.” Ewald crossed his arms and shook his head. “Just no words. It’s quite barbaric.”

Holly scrunched her nose at that. “Did you send an **armed **guard to speak with them?” Holly questioned. 

Ewald gave her a questioning look.“Of course. I’ll not have my men be unprepared should they get violent.” 

“Fair point.” Bran and Marlowe nodded in agreement, as if this made perfect sense. 

Holly rubbed her temples. Yes, greeting survivors of a storm with weapons drawn was _ completely _the way to go. Show them no sympathy or consideration they may be frightened as they are now stranded in strange and unfamiliar lands. She huffed.

“Either way, the Assembly is not going to be happy with their presence on the beach.” Marlowe sighed. “Can we not simply, encourage them to move on?”

“They were unimpressed by the Guard serah.” Ewald admitted.

“And what of that...?” Marlowe gestured at the contaminated sand and water. Holly had a feeling it was oil. But those around her didn’t know. 

“Perhaps we should petition Meredith for aid in the clean up?” Bran offered. 

“That woman wouldn’t approve it even if we said we thought there were mages among the Qunari.” Marlowe grumbled. 

“She might send the tranquil.” Bran countered. 

“Enchanted tools are just as good as magic.” Holly chimed and wrote it down. 

Bran smiled at her support. “For now, let us make sure the beach is clean of anything sharp or harmful. Wouldn’t do for the children-” He instructed Ewad but was interrupted. . 

“Ah-ha! We could employ the children as part of the cleanup.” Marlowe spoke as if this was a perfectly grand solution, looking to his Seneschal and Secretary for support. 

Holly and Bran sucked in a breath simultaneously. Employing children, while unethical, **was** the cheapest option. But it also meant angering Grand Cleric Elthina for doing so. She had a soft spot for children and would not allow them to be exploited as such. 

“Why not the remaining Ferelden refugees? They need work.” Bran directed Marlowe elsewhere. 

“Oh no, the Assembly won’t like that at all.” Marlowe shook his head. 

“Whom do you wish to anger then? The Assembly or Knight Commander or the Grand Cleric, serah?” Bran tucked both his hands behind his back. Marlowe groaned but nodded. They all knew who they would rather deal with. “Holly, please visit the Gallows when we return.” 

“Of course.” Holly wrote down her task. 

“And be sure to-” Marlowe went to remind her of the best peace offering for the Knight Commander.

“If there’s any leftovers.” Holly referenced the basket beside her. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her face forward. Saemus made a squeaking sound and hid behind her, yet curiously peered around her. 

The men stiffened as the largest of the Qunari had risen, making his attention on them known. 

“I think that’s their leader.” Holly stepped forward to get a better look. 

“Leader? Guess they’re not nearly as savage as they look.” Ewald scoffed but pulled his sword out. 

Holly furrowed her brows. She’d never seen a Qunari, only read about them in the Chantry library and the Viscount’s library. 

The largest Qunari stepped toward them. 

Ewald pulled Marlowe Bran behind him. The two guards he’d been speaking with earlier joined him. Bran tried to pull Holly with him, but she batted his hands. 

“Holly, please. They look dangerous.”

Holly didn’t think they looked dangerous given how the Qunari didn’t approach until he was sure they had seen him. And then, he only approached slowly. Not to mention while he had weapons, he didn’t draw them, unlike Guard Captain Ewald. Perhaps this was the Qunari finally being ready to speak with them. 

Holly straightened her spine as he gained ground on them. With a deep breath she stepped forward to meet him, remembering briefly to grab her basket. 

The large Qunari was flanked by two smaller Qunari. At first, he didn’t look like much, but the closer he approached the more Holly realized how big he really was. She was no small woman, but he was wide as he was tall. His grey skin shining under the post-storm sun. He wore plate armor. But what caught her, and everyone the most, was his eyes. Grey on black scleras. Paired with his large curling six horns, it made Holly think of the depictions of demons in the Chant of Light. 

But if that were true, should they not be attacking? 

“Oh, Sweet Maker.” Marlowe swallowed and took a step back. Bran had a hard time looking away, but his legs shook ever so slightly. At least Guard Captain Ewald kept his guard up. 

“That’s far enough!” Ewald shouted with his sword raised and shield gripped tight. Guardsman Wright and Hendyr backing up. But the large Qunari did not slow, nor falter. 

“That’s enough Guard Captain. With a sigh, she squared her shoulders and recalled the few phrases Brother Genitivi had written. She only hoped they were correct and her pronunciation wasn’t terrible. 

“Kost. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun. Shanedan.” She greeted him.

“What did you say?” Bran hissed, angry at first until the qunari slowed in his stride and stopped, zeroing his gaze right on her. The back of Holly’s neck dripped with sweat as the large qunari spoke words in rapid succession. Bran attempted to grab onto her shoulder to pull her back but she stepped away. 

“My apologies. I meant no disrespect, but that was the extent of my knowledge of Qunlat.” Holly apologized. 

The Qunari turned toward the one to his right with what appeared to be a stoic stare, but Holly paid close attention to his expression. There was an ever so slight tilt of his brow. A moment and then he finished crossing to meet her. Holly had to crane her neck back to keep eye contact him but he didn’t press too close. Just close enough to tower over her. 

“A human speaking Qun.” He spoke and Holly felt her legs grow weak at the sound. His voice was baritone, low and sent a shiver down Holly’s spine. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid or... “What mad lands we have landed on. I am the Arishok. What is your role?” 

“Ah!” Holly remembered and turned to Marlowe. “This is Viscount Dumar, Seneschal Bran, and Guard Captain Ewald” 

The Arishok barely gave the three men a glance, unimpressed with them. He settled his gaze on her, waiting. “And you?” 

“Se-secretary Hol-ly.” She was breathless and stuttering under his direct gaze. 

At the title, the Arishok’s brow furrowed, gaze swiveled toward her writing board. Arishok turned to the qunari who flanked his left. 

“A Human Tamassaran.” He placed a hand over his chest and gave a tilt of his head. “Shanedan.” 

“P-Parshaara!” Holly sputtered. “I am not so important as a Tamassaran here. But similar.” 

Here the Arishok frowned and pointed a single finger at her writing board where she’d been writing. “Tamassaran.” 

“Of...of course, if I was under the Qun, I suppose that would be my role.” Holly conceded. 

The Arishok nodded. With a turn of his head, he directed her attention toward the two besides him. For the first time, Holly finally looked away from the Arishok as he introduced the first one. “Kithshok.” 

Kithshok was not so burly as the Arishok, indeed she doubted anyone could be. He was slimmer, and had two horns that shot straight up and twisted. His eyes were glittering gold on the same black sclera. Hair as white as the Arishok’s but in long beaded dreads with skin even lighter. He did not wear plate armor or any chest piece. Instead his chest and face was covered in intricate red paint. He wore patchworked trousers with minimal armor there. 

The Arishok looked to his left. “Karasten.” 

Karasten was a hornless Qunari with white hair braided tight against his scalp in the front and then hung long and loose in the back. He too was chestplate less and sported the same red paint across his chest and arms, with an accompaniment of bracelets and a necklace. He was smaller than Kithshok but his eyes were a light purple-grey on white scleras. 

“I am pleased to meet you. Please accept these goods as a token of our good will and a formal greeting from Kirkwall.” Holly pulled up the basket and held it out. 

The Arishok’s brows furrowed. Kithshok grabbed the bag and opened it. There were three hearty pies, eight jars of cookies and a bundle of apples. Kithshok sniffed one apple before handing it to the Arishok, who took two bites, finishing the apple and nodded. 

Kithshok pulled one of the jars of cookies out, his brows furrowed. Karasten stepped forward and exchanged a few words with Kithshok. 

“**They call them **cookies.” Karasten informed the two who had a cookie in each hand. Arishok turned his around.

Holly heard the one word. They didn’t have a word for cookies?

“**What nutritional purpose do they serve?**” The Arishok asked. They appeared like small bread yet smelled too sweet. He took a single bite

“**None** .” Karasten continued. “ **They were made with baking scraps** . **Or so the Basalit-an of Ferelden informed.**” Karasten watched the Arishok and Kithshok eat their cookies, a twinkle and slight lift of his lips when they nodded their enjoyment.

Holly watched closely for that too. Anxious as she wasn’t sure if they were pleased or if they liked it. When the tenseness of their shoulders relaxed however, she knew. Food was the greatest equalizer and connector of peoples. 

The Arishok tilted his head at the Human Tamassaran. “We thank you. Our people have not eaten in some days.” 

“I’m so glad you liked the cookies. I wasn’t sure what was needed, but I suppose anything would have been grand.” Holly beamed bright, hands pressed tight. “I have more in the carr-”

A throat clearing interrupted Holly, who remembered she was not alone. The Viscount stepped forward, now assured the large Qunari would not attack. 

“Now that greetings are aside, thank you Hol-” Bran’s initial tone indicated for Holly to step back but it died as the Arishok pinned him with a glare. His posture stiffened and an angry affronted atmosphere fill the air between them. As though he were saying, How dare Bran interrupt Holly - a Tamassaran. Bran gulped.

Karasten spoke quickly to the Arishok. The two exchanging words. The Arishok bore his gaze at Holly the entire time, watching her flush but never looking away. When Karasten silenced, the Arishok sighed with a shake of his head. He faced Marlowe with a barely restrained look of annoyance. “Humans. What strange customs.” 

Holly wanted to rub her temples. It was going to be a long afternoon.


End file.
